All language subtitles for The.Blacklist.S06E02.iNTERNAL.XviD-AFG

You don't know me.

You may think you do.

You may have heard things, stories,

about the way I work,

jobs I've done,

and what I'm capable of.

I know your reputation,
which is why we hired you.

The incident will appear to be
part of your political agenda.

No one will know its real
purpose if you can get it done.

Everything is on schedule.

I haven't heard from you
in nearly a month.

- Not a single word.
- I told you,

I couldn't do your job
without making a few changes.

Those changes have been made.

Target will only be in town for a day.

He knows about the coup attempt.
If he tells anyone...

I told you, it's on schedule.

But you haven't told me how you'll do it.

Will it be on-site?

If so, how do you intend on getting
past security? How will you get out?

Do we have assurances
this won't get back to us?

Are you saying
you want me to call it off?

No, what I'm saying is that

the fate of an entire country
rests on you doing your job.

So stop talking.

Consider it done.

What is this? Who are you?

Believe it or not, I'm you.

Synced & corrected by -robtor-
www.addic7ed.com

Yes, I only need you to recover the data.

And, no, I already told you.
I can't tell you why.

Buck, did I ask you questions

when you needed me to pretend
to be your girlfriend

at the last reunion?

Yes, I...

Yeah, okay, great. Thank you.

Call me back.

Well?

What did he say?

He asked a lot of questions.

But can he recover the medical
files Reddington erased,

- tell us what he's hiding?
- Look, Liz,

I get that we're on our own

and that Reddington can't
find out what we're doing,

but can you explain to me again

why we can't just go to
one person in the FBI?

It's too risky.

- Because you think he'll find out?
- He will.

Anyone who's ever gotten close

to the truth about who Reddington was

before he became Reddington
ended up dead.

My husband, Dr. Koehler.

Ian Garvey.

Jennifer, trust me.

We can't go to the Bureau, not yet.

We've got to stick to the plan

and see if your friend can restore

the medical files Reddington erased.

Elizabeth?

Help me pick these up.

You can't let him in. He can't see me.

No, he can't.

No one else is gonna die.

The friend who wants to help
us is a really good guy.

We can't let anything happen
to him, please.

Okay. No one.

Bad time?

No.

May we?

Hmm?

As a fugitive from justice,

I prefer not to linger
in public hallways.

Of course. Come in.

Have you lost weight?

Hmm. Five pounds.

Oh. Seven pounds
when it's in the morning.

Let me look at you.

Well, you look fantastic.

Thai chi and spinach suit you.

I feel like a different person.

I'm sure you do.

I have news about the Corsican.

According to Reddington,
Moreau wasn't deterred

by the shootout at
Dr. Koehler's operating room

or our near miss at Reagan National.

Instead, he's reaching out
to arms dealers

about an upcoming job.

What job? Did he have any details?

Reddington doesn't have any,

but he's reaching out
to his contacts now.

But if he's right
and Moreau is arming up,

that means he's going to work.

Which means people are gonna die.

What's the latest on Moreau?

Any hits from the airport
authority or local police?

Well, we've scoured CCTV feeds,

but he was obviously
avoiding the cameras.

Nothing clearly shows his face.

So we're hunting for a killer,

but we have no idea what he looks like.

Correct, but we do know
that he purchased a ticket

under the name Dino DiPasquale

and was all set to board Premium
Sky flight number 206 to JFK.

Now, the alias is burned, but...

He's headed to New York.

No, he's already there.

We put out an alert on his vehicle,

the one that he stole from the
employee parking at Reagan.

Port Authority flagged it

passing through the Holland Tunnel

just after 6:00 p.m.

We may not know who this guy is,

but we know who he was... A nationalist,

a hit man who targets
globalism in all its forms.

Navabi, alert possible targets...

Wall Street, the media, consulates.

Ressler, Keen, get to New York.

There's an assassin in the
city, and we need to find him.

I don't know about the others.

I only know how it works for me.

- The first basement.
- Yes, the first basement.

It's a door marked "C2,"
northeast side of the building.

Once inside, there's a checkpoint...

I'm not interested
about the first checkpoint.

Tell me about the second one,
where they check your badges.

How do you know that?

Please, why are you asking me
these things?

Talk to me about the second checkpoint

where they check your badge
and your access code.

How do you know these things?

The one they sent you this morning,

I need you to write it down.

Now.

Now!

You sure?

Yeah.

Now it's time for you
to get into the trunk.

What?

Please, no.

- Just...
- Wait, quick, quick,

give me your badge.

Now...

Get in the trunk.

Wait, no.

Are you listening to me?

The network cut my license fee in half.

I'm paying ICM 10% off the top,

and now the studio claims
that it's still in deficit?

Yes, I want to sue.

Now. Yesterday, if possible.

Finally, people I can trust.

I warned you, Aaron. How many times?

The arms business is like
Ring Around the Rosie

compared with this business
you call show.

Hand to God, I'd rather
my daughter marry Arafat

than a network or studio executive.

At least he paid you the
courtesy of lying to your face.

I once provided transportation
for a Chinese cobalt magnate

who insisted on funneling
his ill-gotten gains

into a three-picture deal
with Woodman Blake.

Huge hits, each one bigger than the last.

Careers were made. Awards were won.

A single dollar
over a billion in net profits,

and he stood to double his investment.

The movies grossed
almost $3 billion worldwide.

In anticipation of his windfall,

my associate purchased
a mansion in Sydney

and a yacht in Montenegro.

When the studio accountants

were finished sharpening their pencils,

the net was $999 million
to the crooked penny.

He went into receivership,

and his wife left him for a talent agent.

Not that that's gonna happen to you.

I mean, financially, you're screwed,

but look at the bright side...

Your wife's dead, may she rest in peace.

You said you had a question about Moreau.

Yes, his whereabouts.

I'm told he reached out to you recently.

Mm, he did, but, um...

Aaron, I wouldn't ask you

to divulge information about a client

if it weren't urgent.

I appreciate that, my friend, hmm?

From you, I have no secrets.

If I knew his whereabouts,
you'd know his whereabouts,

but I don't.

Oh, then how about the place

where you're sending
the material he ordered?

He didn't order any.

I had a cache of RPGs,
mint condition, no interest.

All he wanted was
a reference for a contractor.

And who was that?

Maxwell Ruddiger.

Name mean anything to you?

Like a blast from the past.

Hmm.

If you're good with it, I'm good with it.

I already told you, I'm good with it.

What am I missing?

See, I know you,

and I know there's no way
that you're okay

with Reddington
killing a guy in our custody

so he wouldn't have to
identify that skeleton.

No, you don't want to tell me
what's really going on,

I'm okay with it.

But don't insult me
by saying you're good with it.

- Thank you.
- For what?

For being okay with it.

What you got for us?

Charles Albrecht.

He was a courier
for the Turkish consulate.

When he didn't show up for work,

the consulate reported him missing.

They were on alert
because we put word out.

Did the consulate say
whether he was in possession

of any privileged
or classified documents?

He was carrying a diplomatic pouch

that contained classified information.

Was.

The pouch is missing, and since
the Intel was classified,

the consulate won't say what it was.

Well, we already know what it was...

Something Moreau's willing to kill for.

Even if it was Moreau. A Turkish courier?

How does that fit into
his nationalist M.O.?

What else can you tell us?

The diplomatic pouch
wasn't the only thing missing.

His I.D. was taken, too.

Okay, I think we have a problem.

- ARAM, what is it?
- Okay, it's about Albrecht.

Mr. Cooper spoke to the ambassador
at the Turkish Embassy,

who confirmed that Albrecht
was headed to a meeting

at... Get this... The United Nations.

That's how it fits his M.O.

All right, U.N. Security Police
says Albrecht's badge was swiped

six minutes ago at the
first basement level,

entrance C2.

All right, ARAM,
coordinate with security,

put that building on lockdown,

and see if they can't
get a location on that badge.

We're on our way.

- Keen.
- Elizabeth...

I have news about the
faceless assassin you seek.

He's headed to the U.N.

Yes, to deliver a bomb.

A bomb? You know this because?

The device was purchased
from one Maxwell Ruddiger...

A lush, a scoundrel, an old friend,

and a consummate technician
of all things explosive.

That's why Moreau targeted the courier.

This was about access.

Moreau simply needed a way

to get his device into the building.

Well, the badge will get
him in, but not the bomb.

They'll scan it at security,
stop it there.

Unless they don't.

Moreau didn't choose just anybody
with security clearance.

He specifically chose someone
carrying a diplomatic pouch.

Which they won't seize because
it's not subject to search.

Elizabeth, the contraption
you're hunting for

is a binary device

that contains enough
ammonium nitrate and hydrazine

to wipe out the entire General Assembly

if not take down the building itself,

and it's volatile.

The slightest bump or jostle

could detonate the thing without warning.

- How do you know this?
- I know this because

I'm sitting with the madman
who built the damn thing.

Maxwell Ruddiger is with you?

We're en route to you as we speak.

You need to clear the
building, locate that device,

and find a way to get us to it,

but do not let anyone
near that widowmaker

until I can get Ruddiger there
to undo the devil he's created.

- Understood?
- Yes.

Max, perhaps you should
put down the gin and tonics.

You have a job to do,
and you'll need steady hands.

The gin and tonics are exactly
what give me the steady hands.

Better have another.

Jean Topperwien, head of security.

Agents Ressler, Keen, FBI.

You need to evacuate this building.

We have an evacuation plan,
but there's no guarantee

we won't lose your unsub in the process.

Well, that's a risk
we're gonna have to take.

You have to clear this building.

Do you have a location on Moreau?

We know where the badge was last swiped.

Take us there, now.

Attention, all personnel,

this is an emergency. For your safety,

please immediately
locate the nearest exit.

This is not a test.

Sir! Stop. Put it down.

Special Agent Elizabeth Keen, FBI.

We have reason to believe
that case contains

an explosive device.

I need you to put it down slowly

and do exactly as I say.

Okay, uh, all right,
I have the feeds up now.

All right, I'm putting you
on with the head of security now.

Attention, all personnel...

Agent Mojtabai.

- Hello.
- Hello,

we're holding evacuees on the north lawn.

I'm trying to get you access
to those feeds now.

Okay, thank you.

Move, move!

Attention, all personnel...

My gun, he's... He's got my gun.

Officer down. Repeat,
officer down. North atrium.

Suspect's armed and on the move.

Our evacuation protocol is clear.

I've been authorized to change it.

The FBI has no authority here.

Besides, we won't evacuate
emergency personnel...

- During an actual emergency.
- You need to leave,

including all UN Personnel,

NYPD responders, NYPD bomb
squad, HDU, everyone.

That was my superior officer.

The Secretary General
just hung up with Homeland,

and they've requested we evacuate

all emergency personnel.

Who are you people?

What's going on here?

10-4, we're clear.

This is certainly a first.

Okay, I think I got him.

All right, ARAM, talk to me. Which way?

All right, turn left.

No, right. No, no, no, your right.

He can't be more than 20 yards
ahead of you, moving west.

I apologize, it's
probably a silly question...

But why are the police
escorting us, again?

The police and I have a
special kind of relationship.

Yeah, but this,
they treat you like Elvis.

Yes, except the President
gave Elvis a badge,

and I don't really need one.

Okay, I can't tell.

Uh... Come on. Where'd you go?

All right, I, I lost him on the feed.

I do not have a visual.

Okay. I just picked him up
again. You're close.

Drop the weapon, Moreau. Don't do this.

You've got bigger problems
than me inside that building.

I'm only worried about you.

Maybe you should be worried
about my hostage.

Hang on.

Hold on. Hold on.

Hang on. Hang on.

Your men need to vacate the premises.

Funny, it's all so much
smaller than I'd imagined.

A little tacky.

Reminds me of that road trip we took.

To Memphis.

Yes, exactly, Graceland.

I had the same reaction at Graceland.

All rather unimpressive, actually.

It smells kind of funny.

How much time before this thing goes off?

I don't have a clue.

Elizabeth, maybe we should find someone

to get the man a drink.

Tell me about the perimeter.

We're working with NYPD to set a line

from Midtown to the east and
59th down to 42nd to the south.

- Any sightings?
- Not yet,

but I've got NYPD analyzing
footage of the area

as we speak.

Pull surveillance, find an image.

I want Moreau's face on every
TV in the tri-state area.

Any news from Keen?

I'm on my way to her now.

Ahh, honestly, the suspense.

Shh, quiet.

Do I really need to be here?

Quiet.

Ugh, I hate needles.

Wait, wait, wait. What are you doing?

I'm going to smack the lock.

I'm going to whack it to pieces

and pray that opens the case

without tripping the secondary
in-line bypass switch.

You're gonna pray?

Okay, I really don't need
to stay for this part.

All of the smacking
and the whacking and...

Are you okay?

What is it?

Oh, okay.

Ruddiger, if there's nothing
else I can do for you,

I think I'll go exploring.

Wait, wait.

You're gonna leave me here
with him and the bomb?

You can come to the U.N.
any day of the week.

For me, this is once-in-a-lifetime.

The tug of history and all that.

You should be fine.

Should be?

That's comforting.

Oh, my!

Oh!

Mr. Secretary General, Mr. President,

distinguished members
of the General Assembly...

I come before you on the 70th anniversary

of the Universal Declaration
of Human Rights...

Humbled to be the latest

in a long line
of politically questionable,

formerly dashing strong men

to address this hallowed hall.

Castro, Gadhafi,
and my personal favorite...

Ah, Nikita.

You may have helped the Soviet Union

lose the Cold War...

But you did it in style.

Today, I want to bring to your attention

a topic of great interest to me...

And I believe to anyone

who cares about
this revered institution...

Cary Grant, or, specifically,
his acid trips.

- Moreau?
- We lost him.

NYPD's blanketing the city as we speak.

What is it?

The gel-cap housing is stuck.
I don't think I can remove it.

Which means...

I don't know yet.

Here, do me a favor.

- Hold this.
- Hold what?

This white wire.

And not the yellow one.

Don't touch that.

Please. Steady hands, my friend.

Through five marriages, numerous lovers,

allegedly both male and female,

and over 70 films, including
"North by Northwest,"

arguably the greatest work
ever produced here,

he just kept right on
tripping, and why not?

Before LSD was weighed down
by the counter-cultural baggage

of Timothy Leary turning on,
tuning in, and dropping out...

LSD was used

to treat addiction, anxiety,
and depression.

- Oh, boy.
- What do you mean, "Oh, boy"?

That means this is not a good thing.

Standing here in the heart...

Of an institution dedicated to diplomacy,

I can say, from personal experience,

LSD has made me significantly
more enlightened,

kind, considerate, and loving,

and if people are more kind and loving,

then the world will be, too.

Honestly, do you have any idea
what the hell you're doing?

There will be less crime,
fewer acts of terror,

more joy, more diplomacy,
and far more fun.

Ha, ha!

Ha, ha!

- Mm!
- Cary Grant once said

after a particularly evocative LSD trip,

"I imagined myself as a giant
penis launching off from Earth

- "like a spaceship."
- We lost Moreau,

but your weird
little German friend did it.

He defused the bomb.

I'm not surprised.
After all, he did build it.

We've notified NYPD.

You got to get out of here
before they arrive.

Does it...

- Bother you?
- What?

Knowing that a catastrophe at
the United Nations was averted,

that people's lives were saved
because of you.

That you do...

Good that no one will ever know.

Did you know that
Cary Grant's original name

was Archibald Leach?

That he was born into poverty,

the son of an alcoholic father
and a depressed mother,

and then reinvented himself

as the paragon of WASP virtue and charm?

Good for you, Archie.

I'm a great fan of reinvention.

Of keeping your true self hidden.

Or of becoming your true self,

even if you have to take on
a new identity to achieve it.

Care to join me and Dembe and
Ruddiger at the Red Brau Tavern?

Celebrate with a warm pretzel
and a cold beer?

Whatever happened to tai chi and spinach?

After saving Manhattan,
I feel I deserve a few carbs.

You go.

I got to stay here and figure
out how to explain this to EOD.

Second thoughts?

I just want to talk about our plan.

What we're doing is the right thing.

I know.

I do. It's just, um...

Whoever he is, he does do a lot of good.

The only thing that you just
said that matters

is "whoever he is."

That's the point, we don't know,

and this is the only way
we're gonna find out.

But we do know who he is.

Raymond Reddington.

Not the real one, the reinvented one.

The one who's been Raymond
Reddington for 30 years,

longer than anyone else,

and whatever we find out,
it's not gonna change that.

This man, the one we know,

is the concierge of crime.

A very bad man capable of
an incredible amount of good.

Look, I get it.

I mean, I mean, I, I don't get it,

but I accept it.

He's part of your life.
He drops by unannounced.

He's like family.

But being like family isn't family.

We have a plan,

and if we stick to it, it's gonna work,

but I can't do this without you.

So what's it gonna be?

Max, we can fly you tonight,

just as long as we are back in the
hotel in time for the tennis.

I don't want to miss a moment of
the women's doubles, all right?

Go ahead. I'll meet you inside.

- I'll take mine salted.
- As if there was any other way.

Three salted, two with mustard.

Excuse me, sir. Can I help you?

You look lost.

I am, metaphysically, but
aren't we all just a little?

Let me see some ID.

George Murphy,
Senior VP at Fine and Clean.

We sell shower curtains, curtain rods,

liners, the occasional soap dish.

What are you looking at?

Is there a problem, Officer?

Turn around. Hands on the cart.

You don't want me to do that.
This is my good side.

1085, officer needs assistance.

Assistance with what? Deciding
whether to go salted or unsalted?

I'm not gonna ask you again.

Fine, salted.

Just don't blame me for the aneurysm.

Hands on the cart.

Isn't this exactly the kind of harassment

that makes people hate the police?

- Are you carrying a weapon?
- And here I was hoping to surprise you.

Mr. Murphy, tell me...

What's a curtain-rod salesman
doing carrying a loaded handgun?

Curtain-rod salesman?

Shower curtains,
mildew-resistant fabrics.

Baldwin, do you have any idea
who this guy is?

I know he's a wiseass.

Wiseass? That's who you think?

This is the most wanted man in America.

ARAM, what is it?

He's been arrested.

That's great news.

Great? Why would you say that?

- The guy's a killer.
- I know, but, look.

I know theoretically
that I should be happy

that someone who's done what he's done

has finally been caught, but I'm not.

I'm sad.

- Sad, about Moreau?
- Moreau?

You just said he was arrested.

No.

We haven't found Moreau.
We're still working on that.

Well, then who are you talking about?

Mr. Reddington.

Mr. Reddington is the one
that's been arrested.

What? When?

Less than an hour ago,
he was, uh, buying a pretzel.

30 years on the run,

and a beat cop picks him
up at a pretzel cart.

- Where is he now?
- NYPD is holding him at the 27th.

Well, we have to go get him out.

Police precinct, the most
wanted man in America?

- There's no getting him out.
- Of course we can.

We... We, the government.
We have an agreement.

Keen, he's in the system now.

Does Cooper now?

He's in with Panabaker.

She's not gonna do anything.

Is that what you know or what you want?

- No one wants that.
- For Reddington to get arrested

so we don't have to work
with him anymore?

Go ahead, Keen, say it.

I know it's what you're thinking.

- Thinking what?
- That I called it in.

Reddington's whereabouts, that
they arrested him because of me.

That's crazy.

None of us would betray
Mr. Reddington like that.

I don't believe you did it,

but I do believe
you're relieved it happened.

Keen, all I do know is that it's over,

and nothing Cooper says
is gonna change that.

You can't just walk away.

Actually, Harold,
I can't do anything else.

You know the good
this Task Force has done.

Yes, I do, and the bad.

We knew this was a possibility
when we made his deal.

Which is why the government
lawyers who papered it

were very clear about what our
position would be if it did.

In the event of Reddington's
arrest, we disavow.

We papered it five years ago.

Since that time, thanks
to Reddington's blacklist,

this Bureau has killed or captured

over 100 high-value targets

and saved a tremendous number
of lives in the process.

Harold, I like you,

and I admire the way
you have milked this mad cow,

but you knew from Day One

that the government would
never publicly acknowledge

having an immunity agreement

with the number-one man
on its most-wanted list.

I'm not asking you to go public.

He was arrested in New York.

If you inform the U.S. attorney
of the Southern District...

The publicity hound
who wants to run for governor

and, God forbid, president?

You have any idea how long
she'd sit on that Intel?

We'd be in turtle mode
for a month of Sundays.

There must be something you can do.

There is, and we are very good at it.

Absolutely nothing.

Cynthia, I know that the
Task Force has crossed lines.

I know that there has been
collateral damage,

that Reddington is a criminal
who someday must answer

for what he has done,
but that day is not today.

Today, because of Reddington,

we stopped a terrorist
from bombing the U.N.

You disavow, and, tomorrow,
we may not be so lucky.

And that would be a tragedy,

but there is nothing I can do about it.

One driver's license,

one watch, Rolex.

$2,000 in cash,

no wallet, no credit card,
no keys, no phone.

You travel light.

Trick of the trade.

The soap dish trade.

You know what you fellas
always say, that phrase?

"We can do this the easy way
or the hard way."

Well, that's up to you, isn't it?

Actually, it's entirely up to you.

One way or the other, I'll be set free.

Indictments and trials
are obviously the hard way.

The easy way is for you and your family

to suddenly become grotesquely rich,

buy one of those offensive mega-yachts,

and travel the oceans like a
nouveau Jacques Cousteau.

Is that a bribe?

A statement of fact.

You simply haven't lived

until you've skinny dipped

in the clear blue waters
off the coast of La Ciotat.

The ADA is gonna want a statement.

Hmm.

A phone number.

A pot of gold

waiting at the end of the rainbow

for anyone smart enough to make the call.

Let's try that again.

What's this? My autograph,
and a short dedication.

Something to make it personal.

If you insist on being a flatfoot
for the rest of your life,

you should sell it on eBay,
buy some orthotics.

Ah. We'll take it from here.

Who's "we"?

The prisoner is now in the custody

of the federal government.

I made the arrest. You're just
gonna take my collar away from me.

He's facing multiple outstanding
federal indictments.

That puts us at the head of the line.

You're a hero, Officer Baldwin.

I'll be sure to mention your
name at the press conference.

Would've been a nice boat.

Let me be clear.

You will never be free again.

You'll be tried, convicted,
held in a federal prison

until we execute you.

As pleasant as that sounds,

I'm afraid I've made other arrangements.

This is gonna be fun.

Winning always is.

Miss Holt.

- Harold Cooper.
- Hi.

- Thank you for coming.
- Sure.

When you asked me to come to your
office to talk about Reddington,

I assumed you meant the Hoover building.

What is this place?

A blacksite facility for
the Reddington Task Force.

This is where you've
been hunting him from?

That's what I wanted to
talk with you about.

We haven't been hunting Reddington...

We've been working with him.

Say that again.

Several years ago,
the government entered into

an immunity agreement with Reddington.

Now that he's been arrested,

I've been instructed
to keep that agreement secret,

but I thought you should know.

Has the agreement born fruit?

A cornucopia.

You want to keep it in place.

Yes, and I think you'll want to, as well,

after you understand
just how many cases...

Will he be an effective C.I. from prison?

No.

You want me to kick him.

I want you to know all the facts.

- I want you to...
- I came here assuming that

you were going to help
prosecute Reddington.

Instead, you want me to conspire
with you to let him go.

Once you go public, all this goes away.

Mr. Cooper, I can protect
the Bureau's relationship

with Mr. Reddington for now,

but the most wanted man
in America, maybe the world,

has been arrested in New York City,

and I will prosecute him to
the fullest extent of the law,

immunity agreement or not.

So the rumors are true.

You are running for governor.

Good evening.

Today, I can report to the
American people and to the world

that earlier this afternoon,

Officer Michael Baldwin of the
New York City Police Department

arrested international fugitive

and traitor to the United States,

Mr. Raymond Reddington.

As of this moment,

I cannot speak to the details
of his arrest,

but I can tell you this,

in the coming days and weeks,

my office will be exploring all options

regarding charges and sentencing
against Mr. Reddington.

And to the victims of his crimes,

I want you to know that
this case is my top priority,

and I will not rest until Mr. Reddington

is held to account
for all the pain and suffering

he has inflicted on too many
for too long.

Can we have a minute?

He's my father.

They won't acknowledge the agreement.

I need you to focus.

- They're not gonna release you.
- Focus on what happened.

They're gonna put you on trial.

How it happened.

How?

This wasn't an accident.

My luck didn't just run out.

Someone tipped them.

Someone close.

What makes you think that?

The cops were tipped off.

Not specifically about me.

That would've triggered
a larger presence,

and I would've noticed.

Whoever did this told the cops
as little as possible.

Something about a middle-aged white male

carrying a concealed weapon,

something a couple of cops
could follow up on

quietly, discreetly.

Do you have any idea who it was?

That's what I need your help to find out.

Forget about the prosecutor and all this.

I've been a step ahead of them
for decades.

I'm confident this won't change that.

How can you say that?

I need to find the person
who betrayed me.

So you can kill him?

I'd say that depends.

I know you were having second thoughts.

It was the right thing to do.

What's the biggest obstacle
standing between us

and finding out who he really is?

It was him.

He deleted his file.
He dropped by unannounced.

I had to hide in the
closet to keep him from seeing me.

As long as he's free,
we're never gonna find the truth.

Personally, I think
it's cause for celebration.

He asked me to find out
who tipped off the police.

It's all that matters to him.

Not that he's been arrested or...

That he's gonna be put on trial...

And face the death penalty.

All he cares about is
finding out who betrayed him.

I can't imagine what he'll do...

If he ever finds out that it was me.